#also this is not permission to be rude to anyone

[cum-a-calla]

Rivalry

being casually involved with both Benji Kaplan and Roman Roy becomes much more complicated and entangled than anyone could have foreseen.

under the cut: bits of fluff, extremely toxic banter, fingerfucking, oral sex of all kinds, PIV sex, dubcon/noncon elements, light daddy kink, forced orgasms, extremely derogatory name-calling/treatment of a partner, alcohol mention, smokin weed, being recorded without permission, being forced to watch, cum swallowing of all kinds, emotional manipulation at its finest.

important note: there are mentions in this story to this thing that i babbled about a while back, and is somewhat integral to part of the story; i recommend giving it a skim.

“Hey - look what I found on the side of the road, at a - a Starbucks? Yeesh. I thought you were, like… volunteering for the homeless today.” Roman startles you from behind, his spidery fingers clenching playfully into your shoulders as he bends down to bury his nose in your hair. He moans a little in your ear, giggling in his way. “Ugh, you smell good. Scared you, didn’t I?”

“Jesus, Rome. Dickhead. I told you I was hanging out with Benji.” You sip your coffee (if it can really even be called that in the first place) and stare up at him as he stands beside your seat at a little table outside. It’s nice out, the sky a big bright blue with lazy streaks of clouds, little puffs here and there. There was no hesitation in texting Benji to go play outside - grab a coffee, bring a joint or two in your bag, and walk around downtown a little bit.

Roman scoffs, grabbing your cup and obnoxiously licking the opening of the lid before taking a drink. He makes a face as he hands it back, shuddering in mock disgust.

“Right. That’s what I said. Benji - the homeless little mutt you keep babysitting, or whatever it is you two do. Your little chocolate shake here tastes like burnt fuckin’ Oreos. You’re a grownup, for fuck’s sake.”

“You love Starbucks,” you mumble, yanking your cup back and sipping from it. Roman’s eyes flicker to where your lips touch where his were a moment ago, where he licked your cup, and there’s a hint of satisfaction in his spreading smirk. “Also, don’t be rude. Benji’s —”

“Right here,” Benji interjects, coming back to the table. He eyes Roman with curiosity and smiles at you, taking a moment to look between the both of you before his features open up as it dawns on him, eyebrows raised, pointing at Roman. “Oh, fuck. It’s him, right? Roman. Yeah, we do kinda resemble each other, I can… I can see it. That’s nuts.”

“She talks about me, huh?” Roman’s smirk melts into a sneaky little grin at you before returning his attentions to Benji, eyes flicking over his appearance, making mental notes. You’ve seen this look a million times - he’s picking apart, analyzing. Storing potential ammo. Making quick, ruthless judgments. “Don’t believe we’ve ever met, though, champ. Think I’d remember meeting someone like… you. Honestly, any resemblance at all is a compliment to you and a slight to me, so…

Benji rolls his eyes, humming as he turns toward his coffee. “Well, this is fun.”

“Okay, Roman,” you warn mildly. “You go take a nap somewhere and I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Roman’s jaw twitches and he shoots you a look, something that resolves almost as soon as it appears in the first place. Roman smiles and it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Just chatting with your new little friend, sweetheart. But sure, yeah, hang out with my - my stunt double, here. You do kinda have that whole haggard look going for you. Except instead of actually working in Hollywood or whatever you - I dunno… operate a cash register in a headshop, or something.”

Benji laughs, genuinely, the sound like bells in the soft, warm breeze. It makes you smile, it’s infectious and silly. He runs his fingers through his hair and slouches back in his seat, relaxed, regarding his abrasive doppelganger as Roman pulls his phone out. It vibrates audibly in his fingers and Roman mutters something under his breath, his brow pinched as he takes in the caller’s name. Benji smiles an easy, shit-eating smile, smug in its own right.

“Busy guy, I bet. Phone’s probably always going off - that sucks, man,” Benji says mildly, eyes glittering at Roman. He laughs again, a tiny snatch of a snicker as he lifts his coffee cup. “You get a lot of crazy calls in your line of business, Roman? You ever - you get any interesting texts lately…? Pictures, maybe, or…  videos…?”

Roman’s thumb hovers over the button on his phone to receive the call and he glares at Benji, jaw clenched. It’s rare to see him pissed off enough to stay silent for longer than a few seconds, but he does, phone still buzzing in his hand. For a moment, you think he might actually flip out; you’ve seen Roman go off for way less. That vein in his forehead pulses and his lip curls into a sneer. 

“Gotta take this. Grownup business,” he spits at Benji. He puts the phone to his ear and turns on his heel, giving you a parting look that feels almost dangerous. A warning. He snaps his fingers and points at Benji on his way back down the sidewalk. “Teach your fucking dog how to heel. Should get that thing a muzzle.”

The rest of the day goes by exactly as you’d hoped it would - sweet, fun, relaxing. You and Benji swap all kinds of stories, little snippets of each others’ lives and interests, the strange, random things that pass your minds. He’s so beautiful this way, carefree and throwing his head back to laugh, sharing little trail snacks with you when you’re both pleasantly stoned and making up stories about what kinds of people live in the various homes and apartments you wander by. Benji’s really good with direction - he remembers which streets you’ve circled back to, how to get back to where you started. 

It feels natural to hold his hand - Roman could never. Benji’s affectionate, constantly reaching out even to hook pinkies, to tickle the inside of your palm real quick when he wants to show you something, bumping his shoulder to yours just because. He reaches out and moves your hair. Kisses the tip of your nose and scrunches his face up when you return the gesture.

Roman’s affectionate in his own ways, in Roman ways that don’t translate to normal physical affection. He likes to guide you - if he could glue his hand to the small of your back, he would. If he could make a home for his fingers on the back of your neck, he would. Touch belongs in a different category for Roman - he uses it to possess you. Groping in public, studying every little flicker of change in your expression when he’s pleasing (or hurting) you. His hands are tools where Benji’s are offerings. 

The day takes you both to Forest Park in Woodhaven. Not too long outside the belly of the city (disregarding traffic, of course), you find yourselves traipsing and smoking along the trails. Benji is smiling, the sun is mild and the air pleasantly warm. The shafts of light shooting through the canopies of trees as you get deeper into the trail is devastating - it lights him up, his hair suddenly on fire, shot through with those sneaky grays. Sparkling. His eyes get caught in such a shaft of light, one in, one out, and the illuminated eye glimmers. You can see every little spot of brown, of gold and green. Like an agate. He offers a joint to you, pressing it up to your lips, and you can’t say anything. You simply accept his touch and stare into his eyes. His expression shifts, and he’s staring at your lips, now, watching the smoke stream through your lopsided, silly smile. He takes another hit, deep, pulling as long as he can with those eyes on yours.

He hums and motions to you, and it takes no further conversation - you lean into him and he kisses you, long, sweet, nudging your mouth open with his tongue so you can accept his breath into your lungs. You work your fingers into his shirt, tugging it as it bunches. You want this to last forever, the eternal flow of his breath filling you up. You want everything he has to offer. 

Pulling away light-headed, Benji’s all smirk. It’s not cutting, not mean. It’s just his mouth, so stark in its similarity to Roman’s and so wildly different. The same gesture, the same facial structure, and that’s where it ends. 

Benji shoves his hands into his pockets, but not before you see it - how hard he is. He hides it the best he can, pushing it silently down as you continue walking for a bit. There’s sort of a trail in the grass to the side, a bunch of it flattened and worn sparse by foot traffic - it’s hard to tell for sure from here, but it looks like it leads to a little clearing somewhere deeper beyond the treeline. You point it out, lifting an eyebrow. Benji pauses and smiles, nodding, taking your hand as you both traverse off the trail. 

It’s gorgeous. The sun dapples over the both of you as you giggle, Benji squeezing your fingers between his, and within minutes you’re both on the edge of an open, meadowy area, dotted generously with dandelions and bluebells. It’s heavily shaded, and although you’re only maybe a dozen yards from the trail, it feels so… secluded. Like you’re the only two people in this little pocket universe.

Your turn to Benji and, vibrating on the same wavelength, the rest comes wordlessly and naturally as ever. He sheds his backpack and you do the same, his lips on yours, his hands on your hips as he backs you against a tree. His mouth is so warm, the both of you all minty from the gum you’ve been using to stave off cottonmouth. 

He’s humming and moaning softly into your mouth and you swallow each sweet sound just to echo them back. The both of you, a buzzing, tantalizing force in the world. Your own private moment. Time may as well stop existing beyond the line of trees, because this is all there is - Benji’s lips, his flushed skin and charmingly impatient hands. He pushes one eager hand below the waistband of your pants and moans when he finds you wet, rubbing your clit, pushing deeper to push two fingers inside your cunt. He does something - almost a tap, kind of, a quick, gentle movement as he massages inside of you. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. It’s easy to roll your hips a little, humping against his hand while he licks your throat and hums against the taste of your sweat.

“Wait - wait,” you whisper feverishly, sinking to your knees in the dirt and grass. Benji watches you with a weak, reverent sigh, brows knit like he might come apart on the spot just watching you look up at him like that. Hooking your fingers into the band of his shorts, you pull them down his thighs, his cock bobbing readily out. Thick. Heavy. He shifts a little to rest a palm against the tree trunk, watching you lick and sloppily kiss the head. Oh, his little shudders, his sweet, keening moans. 

“Mmfuuuuck,” he whines, hips twitching. He pets your hair as you take him over your tongue, working him deeper, deep enough to make you gag sweetly around him. He loves it. He gasps and groans and gently rocks into your throat. Just a little. Just a bit. Benji’s eyes glaze over and you run your fingers teasingly along his hairy thighs as he ruts into your mouth. His pubic hair is soft, tickling the top of your nose as he moves deeper. It’s natural to slide your hands around to feel the swell of his ass, kneading and squeezing where the curve of his ass meets the backs of his thighs. Delicious. He makes the most intoxicating sound as you grab him there, holding him close. Softly trapping him. He starts gasping as he nears orgasm - his cock swells over your tongue, the precursor to his own climax; you’re almost convinced you can feel the individual, throbbing veins that lie just under all that velvety flesh, trying to trace them with your undulating tongue. You work harder, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you purposely gag yourself, sucking, drooling, tongue working underneath all that rippled cockflesh as it throbs. 

“Oh - oh, m—ohh my god…”

Benji’s voice draws up along with his balls, and that final, sensual feeling of his impossibly engorged cock fills your mouth before he erupts. Cum shoots and drips down the back of your throat in ropes, spurts that you swallow eagerly from him. His voice is a low, shaking mess of syllables - your name, pet names, words that start and then fade into helpless little sounds as he milks himself empty. That’s your favorite part - the sounds. So unabashedly caught up in the pleasure, reduced to a shaky, whiny mess for you.

You unfold your legs, knees uncomfortable, and giggle with him as you pull away and sit on your ass, leaning up against the tree. Wiping your mouth, you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he laughs breathlessly, tucking himself back into his shorts. 

“Thank you for that,” he mumbles. 

“It’s my pleasure. Little… uh, trail snack.”

“Little, huh?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh as he winks, his grin infectious. “You’re dumb.”

“Mmm. Dumb? Me? That’s a shame,” he sighs, coming down to your level. He slithers between your outstretched legs and leans in to kiss you, the taste of his cum still on your tongue. “I guess a dumb guy wouldn’t know exactly what to do with you right now.”

“Well - well… what would a smart guy do with me right now? Just curious.”

“Aw, didn’t you hear? Curiosity killed that cat. Bummer.”

“No!” You playfully slap his bicep as he slips his fingers under your waistband again. “Satisfaction brought it back, ya dick.”

“Well, if satisfaction’s the case…” Benji slowly pulls your pants down and drinks in your embarrassment, your pretend little protests as he looks dreamily on. He gets down on his belly like a snake, like the serpent in the garden, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He stares at your bare cunt, swollen and slick for him. You could have gone without being touched - tasting him is enough. But here he is, pushing your thighs apart so he can lie in that grass, the dirt and moss and errant leaves. He hooks his arms underneath your legs and reaches up to tickle the generous flesh at your hips while he kisses your cunt, over and over, slow and tantalizingly soft. 

Finally his tongue delves between your lips, parted so nicely for him. Considerate. Polite, even. He hums and moans, and again you’re forced to reckon with the difference, the whisper in the back of your mind - Roman wouldn’t do this. If it wasn’t something he wanted to do for himself, he wouldn’t do it. If he’d already blown his load, he wouldn’t bother touching you at all unless he was feeling particularly cruel - making it bad; that’s what he calls it. I’m going to make this fucking bad for you, slut.

Benji’s soft lips, his tongue and teasing fingers… after spending so much time kissing him, tasting and swallowing his cum, you’re already getting close. The trees around you sway just so in the breeze, the leaves shimmering and shaking in the sun. The grass bows gracefully under that slight wind. It goes in rippling waves, birds chattering above your heads. Pot makes your mind deliciously slow, and all of this comes in rhythmic waves of thought, of sensation, much like the ebb and flow of pleasure that Benji gives you. Inching closer and closer to that edge, staring over it. The precipice shimmers ahead, and Benji’s practiced, thoughtful tongue is working its magic. He’s never in a hurry. Always so present, so happy to take the time. You buck a little against his face and he hums a half-laugh. 

“Benji,” you whisper. A glance down between your thighs treats you to his lidded, sexy eyes, the sharp blade of his nose in the plush flesh of your mound, knowing his lips and tongue are making you feel this good. You squeeze your eyes shut and crane your neck back, fingers finding his wrists to grasp them. He shakes you off and instead laces your fingers together, and you allow yourself to fall entirely into his mercy. Each lap of his tongue against your clit is electric. You ride the waves and rock your hips, pointing your toes, trapping him between your thighs as you squeeze them around his head. God, you could suffocate him there. 

His name is carried on the quiet little moans you make and snatched up by the light wind as you hold his hands, giving completely over to him and his magic. In true Benji fashion, he licks at you well past the sparks, the fireworks, only stopping when you have to press against his forehead to push him away. 

“Just a little - little more, just a - just a kiss,” he murmurs, moving cautiously back. If you push, he’ll stop. Overstimulated and stoned, riding on this bliss in the middle of a storybook meadow with your favorite tender man, you pull your hand back from his forehead to free him and he moans. His tongue, his lips. Licking you clean, until he’s ready to give up the ghost. Not a kiss - a prayer. Worship. Something he’s purely giving, expecting nothing. Happy just to lick your cum. 

You both lie in the meadow together fully clothed after that, finishing a half-smoked joint and giggling, holding hands as you point out things you see, random thoughts that cross your mind. Coming down. Turning to look at him and finding him already looking at you, reaching out to trace the pad of your thumb down the bridge of his nose. Leaning in to kiss, so fucking soft. Running your hands idly over his chest, his soft tummy, feeling - fuck, feeling… almost - almost like you might be - 

You push the thought gently away and keep it inside your chest, where it glows like embers, white-hot and flickering.

There’s a point where time has gone on too long. The pocket of magic seals up, and you both brush each other off and laugh, holding pinkies as you gather your little trail packs and meander back from where you came. Kissing goodbye. Watching him even when you’re getting into your car, waiting for him to drive off first, feeling like you can’t miss a single moment. Tucking them away in your heart like it’s less an organ and more a locket, stuffing little mental photographs in there, hints of sensation, snatches of audio from your day. The sunlight glinting off his hair. Fuck. 

Just as promised, you do get a hold of Roman on your way home, as evening approaches. He’s bitchy and short in his communications, but he wants to meet up, so it’s only a matter of time before you find yourself at his doorstep. He lets you in with lidded red eyes and a crooked grin. He’s drunk. Great.

“Come on in,” he drawls, pushing you with that ever-hovering hand on your lower back. “You guys have a nice time today? You… you uh, watch him fuck himself with a bong? Rub patchouli oil on your tits?”

“Already making me feel welcome. You’re so normal about it, aren’t you?”

Roman grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back, eyes focused despite being bloodshot. You can smell whiskey on his breath. 

“You’re really fuckin’ adorable. I understand why that filthy little cuck wants to cum in all your holes, I do. Because I do, too. I do it harder… deeper… meaner. Right?” Roman rubs the tip of his nose along your cheek, traces it down before he tilts his head to bite your throat. “You don’t need nice. You need a firm fucking hand.”

“Roman, that - that hurts,” you whine, reaching back to grasp at the hand holding your hair. Roman uses his free hand to capture it, squeezing your wrist a little as a warning. His eyes glitter, all that dark inside of them threatening to swallow you whole. Your heart’s in your throat and seeing his blank glare, his smirk, feeling the way his fingers tremble almost imperceptibly sends it straight down into the basin of your pelvis, where it melts and pulses. 

“We both know you like that,” he says quietly. He’s scary like this.

“I like a lot of things, Rome, come on. Please.”

“Oh, fuck off. You like a lot of things, huh? Spare me the fuckin’ act. What, you want me to be a crying little cuck baby for you? Yeah? You want me to treat your body like a sparkling, fragile fuckin’ temple, want me to love and respect you?”

Roman’s grip softens, then, and his expression melts a little. He tilts his head, thumb grazing your jaw, your cheek. He glances at your lips and swallows. His expression is almost foreign to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he looks… kind. Earnest. It’s so out of place that it catches you off guard, hypnotized by the softness of it.

“Hey. Is that what you need from me, hmm? To be gentle with you? Telling you how much I think about you, that I miss you when you’re not here? That maybe I’m kind of -” He pauses a beat and then he’s right there, lips ghosting against yours while he murmurs to you. “Maybe I’m kind of… falling in love with you a little bit?”

Your eyes slide shut as he barely kisses against your lips. He hums and you sink into it, heart hammering in your chest, fast, hard, nervous. The soft sound he makes breaks apart, then, splintering into cruel, satisfied laughter. You recoil and glare at him, cheeks flushing an angry, embarrassed red. 

“Fuck you, Roman, that was - what the fuck is your problem?”

The vein in his forehead pulses as he giggles, his grin so utterly sadistic it makes you shiver. He winks and walks over to a side table where he’s kept his glass, draining the last sip of whiskey from it as his laughter tapers off. 

“God, maybe you are that fuckin’ easy. I mean, don’t get me wrong… makes it all the more fun when I break you apart. You’re like a… like a stretch armstrong in that way. ‘Member those? I can just yank and bend and twist and pull and throw you the fuck around and you always come back to the same soft, pliant little toy that you are.” He shakes his head, lifting his eyebrows. He clears his throat and snaps his fingers, the sound of it sharp in the dead air of his penthouse. “All right. Strip. C’mon. Daddy’s been waiting, honey.”

Whiplash. It’s the only way to describe what you’re feeling right now, so electrically pissed off at Roman and yet unable to avoid feeling the thrum in your cunt when he starts giving you those predatory eyes, licking his lips. The way his smirk starts to slide right off his face the longer you’re not listening to him; the utter disbelief in the twitch of his brow. He takes a step forward and, to your own horrified embarrassment, you take a step back. He smiles again. 

“The longer you fuck around, the worse it’s gunna be for you. Is that what you want tonight…? Yeah? After all that fuckin’ hand-holding today, huh, you need - you need a real man to give it to you the way you really need it?”

“Rome -” 

“Mm-mmm. Not Rome. Not anything. I don’t want you to talk unless I ask you to, got it? Now get. Fucking. Undressed. Now.”

This time, it’s easier to listen. There’s the dichotomy - he’s being mean, he’s being awful. He’s being controlling and expectant, and despite what he promises or threatens, you know it’s going to hurt, anyway… and it’s exciting. It excites you very much, in fact, and all these things mingle down in your belly. Heat. Anticipation. Anger, fear, anxiety. 

Guilt.

Benji wouldn’t do this. It doesn’t matter - they’re not even two sides to the same coin. They’re different forms of currency altogether. Roman, a sleek, dangerously tempting black card somewhere, exclusive and cold. Hard-won, a slippery slope. Benji, a crumpled twenty you find at random - in a cash return slot by accident, in the street, an extra bill given to you by mistake that you don’t notice until you’ve already returned home. A surprise, a happy coincidence. 

Roman doesn’t take the time to savor your nakedness, the way your nipples harden up and goosebumps chase over your arms. The way your pupils yawn open for him - not as scary as his are, but enough. Roman’s eyes go over your form with a feral kind of hunger. There’s no softness, no appreciation. Only a stark need for satisfaction. His cock is hard in his slacks, painfully so; you can see it twitching.

It’s only a matter of minutes, if that. Roman moves in for the kill and he swings you around until he’s practically dragging you to his bedroom, shoving you so that you splay clumsily, prettily out for him, all fucking scared and excited like the trapped animal you are. He tosses your clothing on the carpet next to the bed, mindlessly palming the stiff length of his cock through the fabric and hissing with pleasure through those clenched teeth of his. He grins wolfishly, all teeth and sharp, wet canines, and unbuttons his shirt with a quick and effortless grace that takes your breath away. Nimble fingers, cascading down that line of loops and shining little buttons. He shrugs out of his shirt and tosses it aside, undoing his belt, all slim and soft and pale, lip twitching as he crawls across the bed.

“You’re being a very good girl for me, you know that, sweetheart?” His voice is so tender. A mockery. He cages you underneath his body, his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leans down to drag the flat of his tongue up your cheek in a wet stripe. “It’s not gunna save you from any pain, but… it’s nice, nonetheless.”

He laughs as he reaches down to fully unbutton and unzip and push his slacks down his thighs. There it is - god, he’s fucking hard. Harder than usual, flushed almost angrily as he pushes between your thighs. 

“Did he touch you today?” He edges the head in and out of your traitorously wet pussy in slow, shallow pumps. “Focus. Did he fucking touch you today?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” Roman grunts, and in a blinding moment he’s suddenly fully sheathed inside your cunt. You make an awful sound as you claw your way back up the mattress, but Roman’s having none of that - he yanks you right back down where you belong, underneath him and at his express mercy, leveling you with his cold eyes and the tic in his jaw. His cock pushes against your cervix and he forces himself to stay there, pulsing. “How?”

“Fuck!! F-fuck, Roman, I - I’m not just gunna -” 

Roman takes the barest hint of a breath as he rears back, pounding his cock back into your body so that you can barely catch your breath. It hurts, it fucking HURTS. He does it again, and again, rocking up against you with his dead eyes, grinding balls-deep until you’re digging your nails into his biceps, his shoulders, his back. He notices none of it, so many mosquitos against a titan. 

“You are. You are gunna. Tell me what he did to you, sweet girl,” he says, voice so unlike him. Syrupy, smooth. Kind. “What you did to him, even. And - and did you, sweetheart? Do anything to him? Huh?”

“Please, Rome…”

“No. Listen, if you don’t start fucking talking, I’m going to actually hurt you. You get that, right?” Roman searches both your eyes with a hint of a smile. It’s not even a smirk - his lip curls coyly into that little, tight smile, and all you can think of is an animal deciding whether to play with its dinner first or outright eat it. “You believe me, honey?”

You nod immediately, but this response earns you a twitch of his eyebrow and you’re babbling to him, yes yes I believe you sorry yes Roman I believe you, not wanting him to decide what actual pain is. He has to know he’s already hurting you, right…?

“Good. Good fuckin’ girl. Now,” he says, taking your face into his hand. He squeezes his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks, uncomfortable as the way he’s still got his dick jammed up against your cervix. “He touched you. Did he touch you… here?” 

Roman skates his palm up your body, plucking at your nipple with slow, firm fingers until it’s peaking for him. You shake your head no, and Roman’s eyebrows rise a little in surprise. 

“Straight to the pussy, huh? Wow. Bold. That, or you’re just really, really easy. Is that the thing? You’re just a fuckin’ slut? He finger your little pussy for you?”

“Mm - yeah,” you mumble, uncomfortably turned on. 

“Did you cum?”

“No, not -”

“Aw, no? Your dog too old to learn new tricks?”

“Not from that,” you finish bitterly, taking pleasure in correcting him. “Didn’t cum from that.”

Roman’s smile wipes off his face and he pinches your nipple hard enough that it really hurts - you cry out and he keeps his fingers on your face, holding you there while he leans down to trace the throbs of pain in your nipple with his tongue. He lavishes it with a sweetness that is unlike him, sucking softly with his lips. Nibbling. Soothing. Humming against you, blowing cool air on your wet nipple so that you shiver underneath him. 

“What did he do to make you cum, slut?”

“His - he… used his mouth.”

Roman saws his hips back and forth, the pace tempered but the depth unchanged. He slides back into your throbbing cunt until he’s pushing too deep, bottoming out. If there’s one thing Roman does that is unlike anyone you’ve ever met, it’s knowing how to parse out his cruelty and make you believe that you want and deserve it. 

“And his cock?”

“Um… like - not… not there,” you stammer, suddenly so fucking shy under Roman’s magnifying glass. Shy isn’t even the right word - nervous. Afraid. Roman huffs an impatient breath and glares at you, any hint of calm shattered. 

“Not in your pussy, huh? I know he didn’t fuck your ass in the middle of the goddamn park, so that leaves your mouth, right? You, uh -” Roman releases your face with a hint of disgust in his features, pulling his fingers away like he’s touched something rancid. “You swallow his load and everything? Yeah?”

Blinking back a film of tears, you nod. The heady combination of fear, arousal, obedience… it roils around in your belly, that sense of uncertainty. Roman is an unpredictable and fickle man. He wants what he wants, until he wants something else more. The trajectory is ever-changing. 

“So. So you guys took a little stroll in the park, he got you all fuckin’ stupid-high, and he fucked your mouth before he ate your little pussy. Do I have it right so far? Missing anything?”

“No, that’s - that’s right,” you whimper. Again, his hips, moving so slow. He shifts himself a little to nudge over and over into that sweet, soft spot an inch or so inside your pussy, studying the way your lips part and the wetness of your tears glittering on your lashes. You feel like a specimen in a petri dish, Roman staring and poking and taking mental notes. Touch here, it does this. Poke there, look at it wriggle.

Roman yanks his hips back and flips you over, the feeling of that sudden, harsh emptiness making you cry out.

Even in your surprise, you hurry to comply - staying movable, changeable for him. Whatever he wants. Your cunt pulses, so fucking empty, so achy. Roman’s sliding his cock back inside of you and the mood has changed. He’s back to being rough, digging his fingers into your flesh and pounding into you, punishing you, grunting with each horrible thrust. It’s easier to fuck up against your cervix this way, easier to lean over you to press your head against the mattress. 

Against all else, you do what your body does best - sink into that horrible, cloying heat, the way his viciousness sets you on fire. It’s inevitable. Each brutal kiss against your cervix makes you moan and claw at the sheets, makes you whine and wail. God, does it make him hard watching you suffer like that, so lovely and broken down. He watches a tear slip from your eye and trail over the bridge of your nose, watches your face flush bright red. Wrecked. Just for him, all for him - does Benji get to see this side of you? The pathetic one, the one that cries for him to hurt you, that cums for him without him having to do anything but treat you like his lesser? That’s what you are, right? Beneath him. Physically, socially, sexually. 

“Fuckin’ slut,” he hisses quietly. “You know, I know you and Benji enjoy a good call - right? I think we should indulge him. Don’t you, honey? It’s only fair.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, dread filling you up nearly as much as Roman does. He removes his hand from your head and you try to peer back at him - he’s got your phone. When the fuck did he get that? Roman eyes you and smirks. 

“Uh oh - it’s ringing. Oh no,” Roman singsongs, speeding up his thrusts. He fucks you in a way he knows you can’t handle, and you’re pulling at the sheets again, gasping and trying to hold your breath, trying to distance yourself. Roman knows this game. He knows you’re squarely and certainly fucked, that all he has to do is let you think you can wriggle away, just to follow you til your head’s butting against the fucking wall and there’s nowhere left to go. He likes that. Watching you lose every goddamn brain cell you have to the pain only he can give you. Forcing you to cum from it, to take it.  “Can’t wait to see what your little - oh! Hey, you fucking mutt! How the fuck are you?”

Benji’s voice comes out all tinny, filtered through your phone’s speaker. Roman turns the volume all the way up as he looks down into Benji’s face on the screen, a horrible grin splitting his lips. 

“Um - yeah, hey… is there a reason you’re calling me on her phone…?”

“Oh, don’t get all possessive on me, Benji. After all, we share such a special thing together, right? Huh, buddy? And speaking of, I’ve got her right here - wanna say hi?” Roman switches the screen and points it at you, guides Benji visually over your arched spine and to your face, where you hide behind your hands. “Aw, honey, don’t be shy. C’mon. Bark for Benji. Fucking bark.”

“Roman, no -”

Roman buries his free hand into your hair and yanks your head back. Benji’s face changes, then, tense and - what is that - worried…? Roman laughs a little at this, at how fucking serious this guy is. 

“‘Roman, yes’, you mean. Bark.”

Humiliated, eyes squeezed shut, you bark. It comes out weak, embarrassed little sounds you make just to get Roman to stop, just so he can get it out of his system. 

“Dude, this is - like, what the fuck. Don’t make her do that shit,” Benji says, his tone betraying his anxiety. Roman balks at this, his laugh so utterly sadistic it makes you shudder underneath him, a hint of a moan creeping up your throat.

“She fucking likes it. Don’t worry, Banjo, this is just what Daddy does to your fuckin’ Mommy when you’re not around. I just wanted you to see for yourself, kinda - mmm, kinda returning the favor, yeah? Did you know she’s like this? Huh? You know if you ram your dick right up into her as deep as it goes, like if you really grind into her fuckin’ cervix, she bleats like a slaughtered little lamb for you? Maybe your dick doesn’t go that deep. She ever make these noises for you? Or just for Daddy?”

You feel a ripple of pleasure surge through your core and it takes every ounce of effort you have to cover your own mouth and let it pass through you, not wanting to give Roman the reaction he wants. He gives your hair another yank and you cry out, cunt pulsing against his thick cock, the way he splits you open on it. 

“Fuck, yeah. Cum for Daddy, you useless fucking hole. Let’s all fuckin’ hear it.”

“Don’t fucking say that to her -”

“Oh Jesus Christ, save it,” Roman grunts, fucking you even harder. Each miserable sound you make has Roman closer and closer to filling you up. He can’t wait. His fucking balls ache, full of that delicious pressure. Showing Benji what he does to you, forcing him to watch while he forces you to take it and cum on it against your will - Roman could cum now, give it up and call it a day. But it’s too good, and Roman can’t let this slip out of his fingers. He stares right at Benji’s image in your phone, his eyes all lidded and hot, smiling, so utterly pleased with himself he could giggle. And he does. “It makes her cum hard - don’t even gotta bother with her clit. But you’ve got that covered under our, uh - our cunt custody agreement, right? Always fuckin’ slobbering on it. You’ve got all the nice guy shit covered, so she can come home to Daddy and get railed til she’s screaming. Honestly, you’re saving me some work, so, thanks. I should - mmm, fuuuck - I should send you a gift basket or something.”

“This is really fucked up,” Benji mutters. Roman notes with a sense of pure, undiluted joy that Benji looks sick, he looks uncomfortable and - is he sad? Is he fucking sad? Oh, well that’s just delicious, isn’t it?

“Is it fucked up though? You hear her mewling like a dying fuckin’ kitten, right? Can you make her sound like that, asshole? You ever fuck her so hard she cries? I make her cry a lot, Benji, you white-knight cuck. Here, lemme - yeah, let’s fix the angle. Hey, sweetheart, talk to your little puppy for a minute.”

Roman shoves the phone into your hands and manhandles you, grabbing and squeezing until he has you flipped on your back again. He grabs the wrist of the hand you’re holding your phone in and raises it up so that Benji can see you, flushed, chin trembling, lips all plush and bitten, eyes cry-swollen and red.

Benji looks stressed out, his eyes going soft when he looks at you. 

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I -” 

Roman lines his cock up to your cunt again and plunges into you, taking your breath away. He digs his fingers into your flesh and squeezes, pounding into you in a way he knows drives you to the edge. His eyes glitter, his hair sweat-slicked and hanging in his face. He looks like a demon, watching you, his knowing smirk as you try your hardest to keep it together. You can’t, you just can’t.

“Ohh! Mmm - m’sorry, m’sorry, I’m - I’m fuh-fucking - sorry -” The apology is sincere, but it’s hard to reconcile that with the way you moan it, louder and louder, your pitch going up as your body starts to betray you. Everything pulses and tightens, every muscle helpless to Roman’s brutal attack on your sex. 

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and it’s so easy to look at him, his kind smile, forced as it is. God, he’s beautiful. Roman is, too. Looking at both of their faces on the brink of orgasm is strange and feels wrong, so fucking wrong, feels needlessly cruel. 

Roman grabs the phone, switches it so he can navigate your body with the camera. He focuses on where he fucks his thick cock in and out of your cunt, how hard he’s fucking you, and with a grin, he tips his hips juuust so.

“Watch this, Benji. Watch her go.” Roman’s nearly salivating as he watches Benji’s torn expression - he’s gotta be at least a little turned on by this, right? Roman’s nearly panting, so fucking excited he might blow his load before he’s ready. He focuses on your face, waiting until he can see the way you look like you’re in agony - you’re gunna cum. Oh, you’re gunna cum fucking hard. “Tell him you love him, honey. Tell Benji you love him while you cum, wouldn’t that be sooo nice?”

“No, no -”

Roman goes harder, a sound ripped from his chest like a wild animal. “Tell him now or I’ll make you regret it. Say, Benji, I love you. Say it while you cum all over my big fuckin’ dick, honey. Go on, tell your boyfriend you love him.”

Tears spilling down your temples, stomach twisting, you look into the little black eye of the camera in your phone and say it: “I l-love you, Be-Benji,” you sob.

Roman grunts as he rolls his hips, snaps them so that it hurts, oh god it hurts, and there it is. You clench and pulse and arch your spine, coming apart at the seams til you’re shaking. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing Roman’s making Benji watch. You can’t stop yourself from writhing and wailing, but you can at least close your eyes, right?

“Good girl. Daddy’s stupid little cocksleeve,” Roman laughs. He pulls his hips out midway through your climax and jerks himself off against your clit, against your hole, your cum all over his shaft and his hand. The sound is obscenely loud, wet as he strokes himself. He takes a certain satisfaction from taking away from your pleasure, using it to further his own. You whine and whimper and try to quietly beg him - please come back, please, please, I need you.

“No.”

Roman makes Benji watch as he shoots his load over your mouth, your face. Ropes of it, thick and copious; fuck, he hasn’t cum this hard in a long time. Roman paints your face with his seed and laughs as he comes down, giving his softening cock a few last pumps before he switches the camera back to his own grinning face, memorizing the way Benji looks absolutely fucking dejected and miserable. 

“Well, hey, dogboy - this was fun. Glad you came - or, at least, glad you watched us while we came, right? Hope this was more fun than just a few texts and pictures, dickhead. Fuck off, now, bye-bye!” He says cheerfully, ending the video chat before Benji can even think of a response. He tosses your phone to the side and studies your face, reaching out to collect his cum on his fingers and swipe it down into your mouth.

“Clean yourself up. Come on. Can’t do everything for you, huh?”

[starsoftheeye]

I'm curious and bored. reblog or reply to this with your controversial opinions about epic the musical

I'll go first, I like the teaser of athenas time dive better than what we got in the actual song, I thought it sounded better without lyrics

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[synthshenanigans]

How are you going to include songs from the before in the instrumental polls? As far as I know there aren’t official instrumentals for his older albums. Or has someone made isolated versions of those?

Yeaaa CJ stated in the QnA about how all the instrumentals on the Covered in Discontent & the before. albums are just gone cos there was no reason to keep em at the time.

Like I said in the first poll, there was just some songs that don't have an isolated track to listen to, so you'd just have to listen to the song itself & focus on the instruments rather than the lyrics.

Not the greatest thing I know, but! Those songs have really good music & it didn't feel fair to not have em in it, just cos CJ never woulda known how many people would've wanted those down the line. [since like, 50-80% of his fans came from after the before was already finished]

All this is rlly just to say; bros original stuff are really good & deserve more love lol.

[a-dash-in-the-middle]

Call centers for URGENT CARE AND HOSPITALS are hell on earth

I think talking to the wall might bring better results

[blasphemousclaw]

WHO IS THIS SAULTRY LITTLE BINCH

ok this is my extremely unpolished breakdown of MESSMER THE IMPALER from the shadow of the erdtree trailer

The first thing that stands out about this dude is that he’s wearing EVERY possible symbol of treason against the Erdtree: SNAKES and FLAME

Messmer has snakes on his sigil, helm, and 2 snake friends who have dragon wings. Volcano Manor is known for its statues of winged serpents, but the wings are feathered, not dragonlike. these snakes are bright red-orange and are very unlike the Great Serpent we all know and love, who has a heavier build and is blue-grey in color. 

Regarding snakes as symbolism, the Duelist Helm description reads,

“Bronze helm decorated with innumerable snakes. Worn by gladiators who were driven from the colosseum. The wearer becomes a slightly easier target for foes. The snake is viewed as a traitor to the Erdtree, and the audience delighted in seeing these bronze effigies beaten and battered.”

We can bet that whoever is associating themselves with snakes is a confirmed Erdtree hater (Rykard, hello!!!) or perhaps, this dude could even be part of the reason why snakes are considered traitorous in the first place?

In addition to us seeing Messmer wield fire, this line from the trailer (which I think is spoken about Messmer but not by Messmer) implies that he’s known for his fire: “Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death. In the embrace of Messmer’s flame.” 

It’s well known that flame is in many ways a taboo power; particularly the flame of the Fell God, which has the power to burn the Erdtree (the cardinal sin). Messmer’s fire is weird, in some ways it reminds me of the Rune of Death since it starts out black and turns red, but it’s also far too orange to simply be the Rune of Death’s power. 

There’s also this description of the DLC: “The Land of Shadow. A place obscured by the Erdtree. Where the goddess Marika first set foot. A land purged in an unsung battle. Set ablaze by Messmer’s flame.”

I’d guess that the Land of Shadow was the place of Marika’s first conquest, and perhaps Messmer either aided her in razing it or that’s just something he did later? 

so WHO is this dude????

for starters, his name is Messmer the Impaler — M like Marika! Melina, Malenia, Miquella, Mogh, and Morgott. seems to be a pattern...

He says in the trailer, “Mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light?” 

Whoever Messmer’s mother is, she is in a position to “sanction lordship” meaning to give official permission for a lordship to take place. that screams Marika — she is THE goddess, and is responsible for guiding Tarnished to becoming Elden Lord. I can’t think of anyone else who might be called Mother who is in such a position as to allow someone to ascend to the position of Lord. He's also sitting in the same type of throne that the demigods sat in that we see in Morgott's cutscene.

theres 2 ways to interpret this line: 

Messmer could referring to himself when he says this; as if he’s saying, would my mother truly allow me to become Lord even though I’m so dark and edgy?? in a kind of sarcastic way. the flames he produces start out black, and he’s covered himself symbols treasonous to the Erdtree. OR, he’s referring to us, the Tarnished, when he says this; as if he’s saying, would you really let a person with such little light inside them become lord, mother?? (rude!) I’d say we need more context to determine exactly what he means

ALSO, interestingly, his left eye is sealed shut… you know who else has their left eye sealed shut? THAT’S RIGHT… OUR FRIENDS MELINA AND RANNI

The scarseal and soreseal items of Marika and Radagon are also carved into eyeballs… could eye trauma be an empyrean trait?? could Messmer also be an empyrean, one who the current demigods didn’t know the existence of??? 

with all that being said, I really doubt that this guy is Rykard or Rykard’s child as I’ve seen some people speculate… these other clues in the trailer point towards him being another, separate demigod. so what do we make of all the similar imagery?? I think that Messmer might be working against the Erdtree toward his own ends, and he’s embracing similar powers that Rykard did when he turned traitor. 

who is he then? I think he’s a demigod child of Marika, and possibly of Radagon because of the hair (unless his hair color comes elsewhere? a curse?). I think he got banished to the shadow realm for treason reasons, given the heretical symbols. perhaps he was an empyrean with his own agenda who was disposed of by Marika, like the Gloam Eyed Queen? perhaps he has ambitions to return to the real world and become Lord, destroying the Tarnished who might take his throne?

I did this instead of sleeping I hope you’re all happy

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

never stop deal with this so this your periodic reminder that

⬇️

!! if you see someone write different online. unless they explicitly tell you something different. leave them alone. don’t comment on their write. don’t do anything unprompted to “help” without ask. it rude annoying we heard it million times promise. !!

⬆️

some people with language disorders. agrammatism. cognitive struggles. or write with symbol base AAC that not support grammar inflections.

yes we will sometimes write different than you use to.

yes it not “correct grammar,” you so observant (sarcasm).

no it not for fun, no it not choice, no it not writing quirk.

whatever you want say, we probably heard it million times. yes even if it friendly joke - n we appreciate you friendly. but please

great that it “actually help you read/understand better than full grammar.” some people may like you tell them that. but personally not want hear it too - my way write my disability, it about me n it not on purpose it out of my control. would rather you talk about how way break down concept (something can actually control n try really hard at) as easy understand.

“this just gave stroke/seizure/whatever ‘funny’ ‘edgy’ disability” joke. not that anyone make it would listen but. shut up. it not funny to me it not funny to stroke survivors or to seizure havers.

decide stop apologize for exist if it hard read. even if you have receptive language / comprehension / reading / cognitive / etc disability - it unfortunate but conflicting accessibility exist. (yes, do understand actually, because speak from experience.)

if you want know what am say please at least put in some effort to read it.

if after genuine try, still struggle, do what you do when you see tumblr post in “perfect grammar” you don’t understand - polite ask for explain or rephrase or summarize.

it still english, or whatever language person use. unless you actual look for it be turn different language, it still english, no you not need “translate.” (no don’t care that “translate” okay in writing quirk community because again. not writing quirk)

not “fix.”

and. understand sometimes we can’t rephrase in different way, even if that different way include still write different.

personally am allow other people answer “can you rephrase” questions without go through me first, for now, because of this. - but understand this is reluctant compromise. because:

understand sometimes we still sensitive to other people rewrite explain in perfect grammar. because have long history of people refuse put effort in read our stuff but instead always give more attention to people who write perfect, even if their writing not any less complicated than ours. because have long history of be charity case n get unsolicit “help” “translate” when we never ask.

because have long history of be forcibly spoken for n be misunderstood. because people who answer may (& many times do) get it wrong & we then have to spend more effort chase down n correct when we already struggle with communication, n that other version always spread faster than our correction.

so know other people who write different, don’t allow people rephrase at all unless go through them first. please also respect that even if inconvenient.

n on that note.

unless we give you explicit permission to you (like “you specifically can do it” or like above “can do it if someone ask,” or “anyone can do it all times”). don’t. don’t rewrite what we write into correct grammar, into perfect grammar.

don’t give random disabled person unsolicited help. it not friendly it not helpful it rude n annoying. not your charity case. who even are you. no one asked.

none. of. your. business.

not need your fix. get off moral high ground.

n like everything. there some jokes n comments that *some* people who write different may be okay with if they friend with that person make it - sometimes opposite of what this post say. if you not friend with that person then. maybe don’t.

people who write different not all same. sometimes okay or not okay with different things. but. this general see.

the first time you hear about [stuff am tell you in post] probably 456737th time we re-explain it. excuse us for be exhausted n done n our time be tired n angry n impatient.

this been a PSA.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

requesting: bad sanses + dream relationship headcanons for a reader who acts like Regina George (like, a standard mean girl)

Featuring: Killer, Dust, Ted, Nightmare, Cross, Error, Dream.

Masterlist

Killer

Fucking loves you.

Follows you around like a dog when you shop while holding your bags, even if he refuses to admit it.

He's always praising you, always saying how good you look and how you should wear that skirt again.

Laughs at people when you humiliate them, they just look so pathetic compared to you, he can't control himself!

Prepare for Nightmare to take you away from Killer every time he fails a mission, and totally not feed off negativity when you humiliate people.

Dust

Does he have to go with you to the shopping? No? Good.

Dust's always waiting for you to come back from your shopping sprees, even if he himself refuses to go he still wants to know how it was.

He's mostly a listener for two reasons, one he doesn't like speaking and two he likes listening to your voice, so yes, he will gladly listen to you ramble about random people who he doesn't know.

Steals pink clothes he thinks you'd like and gifts you with it.

Ted

Cool. Are you hungry?

He also doesn't care, as long as you're not mean to him it's fine.

Your days are literally gossiping about people while he cooks some steak and fries.

He does go out with you on random days, some of those times he gets something for himself, usually a new jacket or some cooking supplies.

Ted may let you practice your makeup on him from time to time.

Nightmare

Very happily feeds off the negativity you make others feel.

Also feeds off the negativity you let out when gossiping about people.

Encourages your rude behavior towards anyone but himself, those other peasants don't even get to his knees, why should he wish any kindness to pathetic people?

As his queen, of course he spoils you! Anything you want you're receiving, skirts, tops, dresses... Everything for his precious wife..

Cross

He'd seen worse people.. yet something bugs him about you.

He doesn't really mind when you gossip about people, it's a moment where he enjoys listening to your voice.

Like Ted, as long as you're not mean to him he doesn't really care..

You kinda remind him of Killer in a way he doesn't know why.. maybe the way you curse people off? Heh, who knows.

Error

You two are a great duo, you talk trash about whoever and he talks trash about ink and fresh.

He gives you genetic pink sparkly clothes that totally weren't stolen from an AU as gifts.

Also gives you those girly skin care products when he doesn't know what more to give.

Does he understand your need for shopping? No. Does he care? Also no.

As long as you don't touch him without his permission he's fine with whatever nonsense you say or do.

Dream

Oh! That's not... What he expected of you...

Don't get him wrong he likes you! Just.. not how you act toward others..

He tries to change your attitude bit by bit without you noticing, trying to make you be kinder to others and maybe not so rude..

If he succeeds, he's staying with the brand new you, a kinder version who he doesn't feel bad loving.

Yet if he can't, he decides to break up with you. He's sorry but he won't date someone who's everything he's trying to avoid.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Advice on being seventeen

Hi my biggest advice is please learn how to cope without your phone. I’m only 22, but I can’t tell you how vast the generational gap feels when I’m rooming a patient in their late teens and they’re just rudely on their phone the whole time because face to face etiquette is completely lost on them. Covid def did something to people who were in middle school or high school during the pandemic. Literally just try to exist without it more

Don’t obsess over anyone!!! Find a hobby!!!!!! Popular advice for a reason!!!!!!!!!!!!

Start volunteering early - it will help you build confidence and also genuinely help you find yourself

Read more is a very cliche one, but the massive illiteracy of every person I’ve met below 20 scares me

Don’t underestimate the power of a firm shower, a good meal, and 8 hours of sleep. Look into healthy habits, but don’t go off the deep end w self help consumption (as I once did!!!!!).

Advocate for yourself!! Especially if you have an overprotective family. Wish I’d done this sooner and just followed my gut on certain things, even if my loved ones disagreed. The more you do this with discernment, the less impressionable you will be. And it’s better to have regrets as a result of your own calls rather than somebody else’s

Do dumb shit tbh. 17 is the time to take (calculated) risks. Do fun silly things and don’t take yourself too seriously. No one expects anything of you at 17, and 99% of what people think won’t mater in no time at all. Go crazy but be safe about it

Give yourself permission to be out of the loop and focus on yours when you need it

You don’t have to delete social media to be able to use your phone in a healthy way, but you wouldn’t lose much by deleting it. Unless you are literally gaining money by being on social media, you do not need to be on it

The spotlight effect is very real. You have to learn that no one really, truly cares that much. And then you have to feel very free bc of that fact

Start having intergenerational friendships now. Little children. Older people. It’s so beneficial

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader - No Going Back

Main Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist

My first Sylus story...Before anyone asks, yes there will be a part 2 to this!

Please be kind; reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support and I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

Warnings: Mature themes, mentions of sex , swearing

Sleeping with Sylus was a mistake; at least that’s what you kept telling yourself whenever you felt your memories drifting to him and the night you had spent together not too long ago. 

Sleeping with him was one of the best mistakes you’d made in a long time, but it was a mistake nonetheless; one that you couldn’t risk making again. 

That’s why you’d been ignoring not only his calls, but also Luke and Kierans. 

You needed to put distance between you and the leader of Onychinus; in your mind this was a simple thing to do, you just needed to talk or see him. 

But in reality, this ended up being much harder than you could’ve ever imagined it being. 

You missed him. 

You wanted to talk to him. 

You wanted to be around him. 

You wanted the ‘mistake’ you kept thinking about so often, to happen again. 

You wanted him and being the one purposefully put the distance between the two of you hurt. 

A small sigh left your lips when you saw your phone light up with another incoming call from his number. 

You knew you should just block his number; it would certainly make trying to ignore him easier, but you could never bring yourself to do it. 

For a few seconds, your finger hovered over the flashing green answer button, your heart just longing to hear his voice again even if it was just to hear him say a few words. 

But then  your mind regained control over your emotions, you couldn’t talk to him 

It would just make everything harder.

So you declined the call and tossed your phone onto the couch, in an attempt to avoid any temptation. 

You were going to go out for a walk, in the hopes that it would potentially help you clear your head, but when you opened your door, you were met with the very person you’d been avoiding.

“We need to talk,” Sylus said simply, slipping past you and into your apartment. 

You stood there for a few moments, trying to process what was happening as well as trying to work out what you were going to do. 

You could run? 

But he’d catch you. 

You could stay.

But that came with its own risks.

“I suggest you shut the door, unless you want people to start asking questions,” he continued, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

Run. 

Stay. 

Run..

Stay…

Your heart won the battle. 

You closed the door, trying to persuade yourself that you were only doing this so that no one found out that he was here and not because you wanted to see him. 

You took a deep breath, before turning to look at Sylus, whose rube eyes were fixed on you. 

“You know it’s very rude to ignore phone calls from people,” he pointed out, using his evol to lift my phone from the couch and into his hands. 

Eventhough he hid it well, you could see the hurt in his eyes…that look, that fleeting look of sadness was enough to make you want to break every single rule you’d been giving yourself. 

“You can’t be here,” Y/n said, holding his gaze. 

What if he got caught? 

What if someone found out you two knew each other? 

It was too dangerous for both of you. 

“You’ve been avoiding me, what else was I meant to do?” he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, taking a few steps closer towards you. 

You didn’t answer his question; you didn’t know how to. 

You didn’t know what to say to him. 

So you just remained silent. 

A sigh fell from his lips as he took a few more steps closer to you, all but destroying the distance you knew you needed to keep between each other. 

You went to take a step back, only for your back to collice the front door of your apartment. 

Almost instantly, Sylus took advantage of this opportunity; placing one hand by your waist and the other next to your hand, essentially trapping you between him and the door. 

“Conversations only work if both people are talking sweetie,”

Fuck that nickname. 

Fuck the way it fell from his lips. 

Fuck the way it made your heart skip a beat whenever he used it. 

Fuck him. 

Oh how you wanted to. 

Yo needed to keep your resolve, but that was slowly dwindling away with every moment that passed

“Why?” he asked, his quiet tone making you wonder if he’d really said anything at all, until he repeated himself, “Why have you been avoiding me?” 

There it was again; that flicker of hurt in his eyes that made you want to do nothing more than just reach out and kiss him. 

As you glanced up at him; the words that you’d been pushing to the back of your mind, were somehow suddenly on the tip of your tongue 

You tried so many times to tell yourself that it wasn’t true, to try and push the feelings that you had for Sylus away. 

But it was all a lie. 

You’d fallen for the leader of Onychinus….

You saw Sylus’ eyes narrow in frustration at your continued silence, as another exasperated sigh came from his lips. 

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you started, the sound of your sudden uneasy voice, catching his attention instantly as he waited intently for you to continue.

“Because I’m falling-”

Your admission was cut short as Sylus moved the hand that had been by your head and put it  over your mouth, silencing you. 

He leaned in close, so close that you could feel his breath tickling your skin. 

“Careful, sweetie,” he warned, slowly removing his hand from your mouth before placing it on your jaw, allowing his thumb to run across your bottom lip. 

This is exactly the type of situation you were trying to avoid. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from his touch, instead you felt yourself instinctively melting into it. 

“You can’t take those words back once you say them,” he breathed, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

You didn’t want to take those words back. 

You wanted to say them. 

But then a thought raced through your mind; what happened once you did? 

Your internal battle was cut short when Sylus leaned in closer to you. 

What you didn’t know was that Sylus wanted to say those words as much as you did. 

You were staring at him; with those gorgeous y/e/c eyes, not knowing that these last few days had felt like a living hell. 

He needed you, craved you…and not being able to even so much as talk to you, was enough to drive him to the brink of madness. 

And that’s why he was here; risking everything, just to be with you. 

“Touching you was a bad idea,” he smirked, his lips inches away from yours.

“The worst,” you whispered in agreement, feeling how quick your heart was beating inside your chest. 

You knew what you were doing, knew that if you didn’t stop what had already begun to happen, that there would be no going back. 

“We should stop,” you breathed, feeling the last of your resolve completely disappearing. 

“That would be the logical thing to do,” he answered back; his eyes glancing between your lips and eyes again, silently asking for permission to close what little distance was left between you. 

“Fuck it,” you sighed, throwing your arms around the back of his neck before standing on the tips of your roes and crashing your lips onto his.

Tagging some people who might enjoy this:

@xacatalepsyx @book-dragon03 @hiqhkey @fangirlsfandomsss @albert-moriarty-fan @elegantangelenthusiast @worm-in-a-bug @darkphoenix2332 @deathkat657 @xenasolos @tasha-1994 @randomruff @mrs-masen-cullen @okaydokey @the-slytherin-poet @taronyuhunter @reverbsworld @serenitymaria @babygirl-panda19 @themagicafox

[wonjuii]

Hi, I do think exposing is childish but... I want to warn people. Ever since, like around 2024, august? I was invited to a groupchat, filled with people who posts on tumblr! some were ppl i didnt know about. And.. there is marie. I thought marie was a sweet person at first, didnt talk to her since i didnt know her that much. ever since the month grew, there's a chaos drama about dodo. (i am not bringing it up that much but it will be some information direct to that chaos)

it was around... october? I dont know but lets forget that! past 3 days, marie was being too dramatic, calling me and @awwriri sensitive. (just to tell you that, I can reclaim the slurs since i took an irl test but idk if its a thing since the doctor said "it was to check if i have autism" but it was positive i guess!) It was during the lil-liaa chaos. I didnt want to say the r slur to her but i ended up saying it since there were alot of things happening. As you can tell, i asked permission to say the slur, I was worried if i am really meant to say the slur in the gc. (please anyone dont get uncomfortable!) all of the sudden, she called me insensitive..? I didn't know asking permission is considered impolite or insensitve.. we all had a small talk with marie. everything went a little okay (I assumed.) there are evidences of our small talk.

I apologised... many times. MANY TIMES. "don't be sorry" i will have to be sorry because you bashed on me and riri bc of the slur now the whole server bc of dodo?? U can't be that serious. I also mentioned that everyone deserve to be forgiven! guess marie cant accept that. I thought riri was the owner of the gc, of course i had to ask her permission but no. she wasnt the owner. i was dumb enough to not check who's really the admin of the gc. When we had a small conversation about slurs, she mentioned she cant reclaim the N WORD bc others used it?... Although she used it when she just said it TWICE. (ITS NOT A RACISM SLUR, SHES AFRICAN)

i was just trying to make a conversation, setting up a new type of topic since i got really annoyed and uncomfortable, talking about slurs. But, she continued, wouldnt even stop ending the conversation about it. I even try to convince her to bring riri back to the gc since we all wanted to see how she is.

.... okay. do u like.. hate riri or something? The fact she argued with riri, MAYBE ALMOST EVERY WEEK. MAYBE EVERY DAY. its just disgusting how shes treating the others like shes the oldest of the gc. (she tried to boss me, telling me not to say the slurs bc im insensitve) just so you know, vivi educated me more about slurs so i am not going to say it. (thank you vivi)

The text may not be necessary, but can't you tell how bad she is? if your assuming its bc her education system or shes young, i was 13, i rarely got into fights. (like twice a year.) most likely, she's to cause tons of fights. my screenshots:

(Please press to read, it might be hard for you to see!)

This is a dodo situation. you may not know why dodo didn't explain why she didn't say anything or mention her reason about ignoring to chei. here it is.

basically, she was moody (mood swings i think) I understood dodo, i have frustration issues so i get really annoyed like almost everyday. just to clarify, were not bashing on chei, this is just to show evidence about marie and things she said! more evidence when she started being rude to me... (i didnt clip that part but others may have seen it, she said something like "no, i dont want to ❤️" something like that)

shes basically thinking we dont care...

(im at the corner at the top, replying to her.) You can tell i apologised to her like many times. shes basically saying dodo doesnt deserve to defend herself because shes a bully..? do you realize what ur doing. its childish.

evidence from dodo about marie talking about dodo in her post!

i cant. this is just annoying me so bad. why is she only asking me to block her ??? im so confused. (AGAIN, please press these evidences to read!)

wow.. i just dont get whats her problem with dodo, me and riri atp?..

sigh. marie tsk tsk.. i just cant believe this. i assumed she was going to expose me but i guess not?.... also another information.. me and vini were just trying to calm her down but she started bashing on her too.

Thank you to anyone to might be reading this. Again, exposing seems childish but its the best way to do it. its for others to be warned, incase! tags : @y-unrei @n-americano @i-mmaculatus @sugarish

@miujo @i-kyujin @aestradairio @awwriri @atsubie

@aeraras @rkivefr @daddldee @p-oisn @kissunoo

@florescita @fairytopea @purinkiss @hourlyhoon

@lvioung @obdosant @tzulipss @j-eongs @yeritos

@yonkiibums @hcvenue @bitchey @babyvoxgirlie

@swhore @bloomqi @kiyeuo @chaeryeos @y-vna

@y-urios @aestradairio @aesverse

god all of that tags is MAD!!!

[joejhang]

my unasked-for input in the jeremy discourse

been seeing a lot of jeremy knox discussion as of late while mindlessly scrolling thru the aftg tag so i've decided it's time to step in. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

the main criticism of jeremy i've seen in the fandom is the way he treats/deals with jean's situation. a lot of people think he's just not doing a good job and can be insensitive or thoughtless at times. i'd like to counter this by saying: he's doing his best, and he's actually doing pretty well.

the aftg fandom at large has this superiority issue where they seem to always know the right thing and the right way to go. i'm gonna remind y'all that we are very used to the foxes and andreil, and the trojans are a totally different environment to the one we've been acclimatised to. the foxes are not well-adjusted AT ALL and to an outsider's eye the way they deal with each other is probably really cruel and rude at times. it works for them because they're in similar positions in life and have no time for politeness and courtesy, and the only way for them to work together is to work out all the fights and issues head-on, with little concern for hurt feelings. it works for them, but that doesn't mean it's the best or only way to go for anyone else.

jeremy may have an untold backstory of his own, but i think we can all agree that he's much more well-adjusted than jean, who has been living in an abusive cult environment for years. the trojans and jeremy are completely unfamiliar to jean, but so is jean to jeremy. jeremy has no idea the full extent of jean's past and history of abuse, so you can imagine his shock and horror when he finally begins to realise the ugly details of what happened to him.

there's a lot of emphasis on action and reaction in the way the fandom sees characters and relationships, but not a lot on intention. i think, no matter the mistakes jeremy makes, his intentions are good. he wants to support jean and help him in his healing journey. was it wrong of him to tell cat and laila what happened in jean's freshman year without his permission? yes, of course. but i think people need to consider that jeremy is literally only human. he's a 22 year old boy who has unresolved issues of his own that's just trying to do the best he can with what he has. he shouldn't have talked about jean's past without his consent, but it's important to know that he didn't do it with malicious intent or just to gossip. he probably genuinely thought it was the right way to go to let cat and laila know, so they can help jean better by knowing what happened. it wasn't the right thing to do, but honestly i think people in the fandom are more pressed about it than jean is. jean remarks on it and seems a bit annoyed, both with himself for telling jeremy and jeremy for telling the girls, but he doesn't hold it against jeremy and clearly still trusts him. jean knows that jeremy wants the best for him, and is doing his best, and the fandom should remember that too.

i think a lot of the issues the fandom has w jeremy and also jerejean is that they seem to think jeremy is going to "heal" jean. i cannot explain how much this take boils my blood because people can't "heal" other people. healing is a complicated and long process that requires, yes, help from others, but also changes in perspective, environment and core belief. jeremy alone is not going to fix jean and make him good as new, and that attitude towards them is unhelpful when analysing the narrative. jean's slow journey of healing comes from the combination of: a huge change in environment (the mob mindset of the raven's nest -> the sunshine court), a support network (jeremy, cat, laila, wymack, the trojans, occasionally kevin and neil), a change in mindset (both towards exy as a sport and towards relationships with others and a relationship with himself) and simply time. no one person can heal another, and no matter how large a role jeremy plays in jean's healing, he knows he can't do it on his own. so do the other people around jean. it's why cat takes him on a motorbike ride, just to let him relax and see the world. it's why renee doesn't get jean to stay with her, because she knows how good the trojans will be for him. jeremy is not going to heal jean, but he can definitely help him with it.

the last and arguably most important thing is this: jean trusts jeremy. y'all can talk about how jean is traumatised and unfamiliar with the world outside the nest but i swear to god this fandom babies and uwufies him to unbelievable extents. jean may be unspeakably traumatised and at the end of his rope, but he is an adult, and he does have agency. he understands that jeremy cares about him and his wellbeing, and he trusts jeremy. jeremy isn't perfect. he's inevitably going to make mistakes and do questionable things along the way, but i don't think he's at all impeding jean's healing or growth, and he is doing everything with genuine good intentions. one person's definition of the "right" thing to do is not objective and all-encompassing. jeremy may do things that offend you, and that you would hate, but everyone has a different opinion on these things. do you guys remember the conversation between andreil after dr*ke's attack, when neil pushes andrew just to see him crack? if u think about it on an objective level, it was wrong, even cruel, to press someone about their history of trauma after a horribly traumatic event has just happened to them. but andrew doesn't hold it against neil, and doesn't even seem all that bothered by it. i think the aftg fandom would do well to look at things and events that happen in the books in context and stop thinking that there is only one right answer to every question and only one correct solution in every situation. just because something would be a no-go for you, doesn't mean it would be for everyone, and that goes for fictional characters as much as it goes for real life.

anyway i just find it so interesting how critical and quick to judge people are when it comes to jeremy, when, objectively, the foxes and even andreil have done probably more pressing and objectively "wrong" things to each other. if u read the series back, there are a lot of times when they push and challenge each other's boundaries, but there's an understanding that that is the best way for them to engage with each other. it would do everyone a lot of good to apply the same attitude to the sunshine court, considering how vastly different of a context this new series is in.

[natsgrave]

THE PHOTOGRAPHER AND ACTRESS | scarlett johansson

big reputation, you and me, we'd be a big conversation. it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold. you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks, so here's the truth from my red lips. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV

I'm here today taking pictures for an event, at the red carpet.

My bestfriend is a famous actor and well me, I'm a professional photographer.

If you're wondering who's my bestfriend is, it's the Scarlett fucking Johansson. we met—well, bumped into eachother a few years ago causing her to accidentally spill the coffee she's holding all over my shirt and keep apologising even I told her that it was okay.

She took me out for dinner as apology. I declined at first but she kept telling me that even if I don't want to, she's still gonna take me out. so I said yes, and after that we just instantly click.

Now, we're bestfriends.

Oh, oh, wait, let me tell you a secret. She's also my girlfriend, cool right? I know!

Everyone knows that she's in a relationship but we actually didn't tell the public except our close friends and family that it was me, the public knows that we're just really close friends.

As I keep taking pictures of other celebrities, she finally arrived.

Fucking goddess. She looks ethereal and she's mine. My scarlett, my girlfriend.

She keep looking around until her eyes landed on me and gave me her gorgeous smile. I could die now. Right here, right now.

She walked towards the middle and everyone starts shouting her name.

"Over here, Scarlett!"

"Look to the right!"

"Scarlett, look over here!"

"To the left!"

There's lot of people shouting her name but she just stood still and look into my camera. Posing for only my camera, for me.

What the fuck?

All the other photographers are now looking at me. I took the camera away from my eye and glared at her before I mouthed 'stop.'

But instead of stopping and posed for others, she just smiled before walking away. I heard everyone whispering and some look at me and mutter a 'what the fuck.'

"I'm sorry." I smiled and start packing up.

"I'm gonna beat your ass, motherfucker." I muttered as I go behind the red carpet.

I passed a security and asked me what I need, "Hi! Sorry, I just need some photos with miss Johansson for our program, is that alright?"

"Wait here." He said and walked towards Scarlett who's standing with some friends.

The security talked to her until he pointed at me, smile form into her face before walking over, "Thank you, sir." I said before pulling Scarlett to the corner, out of anyone's eye.

"What was that back there!?" I whisper shout.

"What? I was posing." She casually said. "Yeah, for me. Only for my camera! You can't—" I didn't even get to finish my sentenced when she kissed me. How rude.

"You can't blame me, you're the only one I see." Scarlett said before kissing me once again.

"Stop kissing me, someone might see." I said and playfully gave her a glare.

"Alright, okay, fine. Can I atleast have a hug?" She asked, giving me her best puppy eyes and arms wide open.

I rolled my eyes and hugged her. I felt her pulling me even closer and pressing me to her body.

"Scar?" I whisper.

"Hmm?"

"You're hugging me because you want to feel my boobs, right?"

"Yeah."

very short one. feedback and reblog is highly appreciated!

[hyperlexichypatia]

At some point I have to unpack and describe the specific intersection of factors that led to my specific experiences with food shaming (and all related topics like sizeism, ableism, neurobigotry, healthism, ageism, etc).

As a a fat, autistic, ARFID-ite who's consistently been treated as younger than I am, and with scandalously non-abusive parents (how dare they vaguely accept me as I am without beating me into submission!), a lot of the food shaming I've experienced in my life was based on treating me more as a "spoiled child" than as a "fat woman," even after I was clearly the latter.

Food with my extended family or parents' friends or anyone older than myself was always a site of shaming how spoiled I was, how overly permissive my parents were, how rude I was for not eating what I was served (specifically for that -- I wasn't actually doing any "rude things" like commenting negatively on the food, demanding alternate food, or anything like that! But simply not eating what I was served, as a Young Person, was "rude".)

I was also heavily desexualized and somewhat degendered, so it wasn't "You're an unsexy woman because you're fat and ugly, not thin and sexy like a woman should be," it was "You're a spoiled brat picky eater who needs a spanking." Up through age. Like. 24.

And I realize, please believe me, I am very well aware of what an incredibly privileged problem this is. I was stigmatized because my parents weren't abusive? What kind of problem is that? Everyone else was dealing with actual problems, like actual abusive parents!

So my point isn't to complain about my problems, it's to say that food-shaming takes many forms. I was reminded of that when I saw an otherwise good, innocuous post about getting along with family at Thanksgiving, that included something about "Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend, ask them about their hobbies, or what they're most looking forward to on their plate!" and I was suddenly filled with anxiety, because, no, don't do that. If you had asked Teenage Me what I was most looking forward to on my plate, I would have assumed that you were admonishing me for only having two foods on it, lecture me about how I can't have dessert if I don't eat my vegetables, nagging me to "Just try it," and possibly throwing in some remark about "Back in my day, if we didn't eat what we were told, we got a whipping!" Questions about my nonexistent love life would have been comparatively less fraught.

Don't comment on people's food choices. Don't comment on kids' food choices. Don't comment on teens' food choices. Don't comment on adults' food choices. Don't comment on people's food choices.

Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend either, although, if that tradition must continue, I'd at least like to add age balance to it. If you ask a 15 year old if she has a boyfriend, she should legally be allowed to ask you how your divorce is coming.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hi Gallus, I just wanted to let you know that your airport posts appeared on the bestofreddittorupdates subreddit. I think you’ve posted before about not being ok with your stuff being posted elsewhere, so I wanted to let you know.

I've decided that the policy is:

Anyone who reposts my content for profit or for a paid job without my permission, like the handful of magazine and blog "Staff writers" I've had to DMCA nuke, can get fucked.

If you want to repost to instagram, reddit, w/e social media where you only get internet points, I don't really mind, but PLEEEEEASE include a link to my pinned post or Ko-fi because weird stories is how I support myself. BestOfReddittorUptates poster, if you're here, would you please link the Ko-fi on the reddit post? https://ko-fi.com/gallusrostromegalus Here's a convenient link and everything.

If you want to do a dramatic reading for your youtube, write an article for your blog or write a stageplay based on one of my posts, where you will make money and/or get a grade for it, Just Ask first? I'll probably say yes, but it's rude when people decide to make stuff for money or school with my work and ask me for "permission" after the fact. Also, please link back.

Fanart or Fic based on my posts is always fine. @me about it, I wanna see and my activity page is a mess.

[pinkdreamcollectorsworld]

Hey besties! Please read!!

We need to have a chat. An important one.

I've sorta been seeing posts floating around on here about speculation surrounding Assad's sexuality.I typically tend to keep scrolling just to avoid discourse since it's personally not my thing to get into. But, I was on insta when I happened across a fan account (story linked below) discussing the comments/dms they are getting asking if he's gay. This also happens to be an account that is followed by people who work on the show. One of them being someone who works alongside assad as a side character on the show (someone can correct me if im wrong)

The Instagram story clearly states that none of the moderators of the account know him personally, nor has he ever divulged the information in regards to his sexuality.

To say that I'm shocked is an understatement. Maybe even embarrassed. Definitely dissapointed.

We as a fandom should not, by any means, be speculating, or be doing ANYY digging about these actors personal lives. That includes reasearching thier family, friends, and/or partners. Thier personal lives, are theirs only. Just like ours. We need to respect the boundaries of the people who not only are nice enough to interact with us (when they can), but also work really hard provide us with our beloved show.

Its okay to enjoy the things that come with being in a fandom like this. Its okay to be interested in the other work they do. Whats not okay is to violate thier privacy in a very public, rude way.

This goes not just for Assad, but for the rest of the cast and crew/showrunners as well.

I enjoy Assads work and can't wait to see what else he does in future projects.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk 🙃

(I also have permission to share the story. If anyone needs the screenshot of it I have one if it ends up expiring before you get the chance to look at it)

https://www.instagram.com/stories/assadzcdaily/3442715499721453007?igsh=ZGU0eHAwOTRjNWMy